


Waystation

by mieraspeller



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Ambassador Octavia, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mieraspeller/pseuds/mieraspeller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baths and houses and fighting back to back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waystation

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Will probably be AU by the next episode that airs. 
> 
> This will probably become a series of my Linctavia headcanons.

"Oh my god," Octavia groaned when she caught sight of the veritable treasure trove in the tiny cabin. Lincoln looked up from the fire he was tending with his tiny proud provider smile that generally made Octavia roll her eyes. Not this time though. This time he deserved to be smug. 

"The soap is on the shelf," he gestured at the wall above the bath. The glorious steaming HOT bath. The kind she'd once only read about on the Ark, and hadn't been able to get enough of since.

"I love you so much," she breathed, already tearing off her tagged clothes. She stepped up to the metal tub and dipped her hand in the water, eyes closing in bliss. There was a fond laugh from her left but she ignored it. She was savoring the best gift she'd ever received. In the last month of non stop travel, anyways.

Okay, savoring over. Octavia clambered over the side of tub and sank into the steaming water, letting out a guttural moan of pleasure. When she could bring herself to open her eyes again, Lincoln no longer looked amused. He looked all intense and -- really turned on.

"Are you coming in?" she asked innocently. "It's been so long I've almost forgotten what a bath was. I might need help."

He seemed to shake himself awake. "I should..." He gestured at the pants he was putting a patch on and she shrugged. 

And then got down to scrubbing off on the of dirt and blood and sweat that accumulated with travel. Swimming in the cold river didn't do much for the ground in detritus under her nails. Or her hair.

Lincoln stood and reached over her to take a small jar off the shelf. "For your hair," he said. He must have noticed her rubbing at her hair with the soap. Octavia gave his shaved head a dubious look, and he cracked a real grin. "From Monty."

Oh. Well that was all right then. She got to work, while Lincoln sewed and occasionally quizzed her on her trigedasleng vocabulary. She wasn’t yet fluent in the language of the Forest People, and different clans had differences in dialect.

By the time her hair was clean and tangle free the water was barely warm. Her skin tingled from the scrubbing, and she was pleasantly loose and warm. Too loose, she discovered, when attempting to heft herself out of the tub.

"Lincoln. My bones have turned to mush. Help."

Between the two of them Octavia was hauled out of the bath and dried off. She thought briefly about changing into her slightly cleaner clothes but before she could, the soft bedding she was sitting on worked its magic and she was out.

 

_The ground shuddered as another of Raven's bombs went off, and Octavia had to struggle to keep her footing. The mountainmen fought in their containment suits, so they were easy enough to pick off - all you had to do was open the suit. But they were flanked by reapers. They tried to knock them out instead of killing, but there were too many and they had too few fighters to risk losing their own people. Octavia whirled and slashed with her sword, cutting through mountain men and letting the radiation take care of the rest. Lincoln was at her back, fending off reapers._

_She briefly saw Clarke and Jackson dragging unconscious reapers away from the fight while Kane and Bellamy stood guard, and she knew more of the non combatants were waiting to restrain them until the drug wore off._

_That momentary lapse in focus caught her._

_A mountain man holding a huge decorative sword lunged at her. Octavia jumped back, trying to regain her balance, and stumbled into to someone._

_It howled. Reaper!_

_She jerked around to look for Lincoln, and then -- pain. She saw the blade of a sword thrust through her abdomen. And then she saw Lincoln lying still under three reapers as they tore into his stomach with their hands. The one she'd run into was advancing on her._

_Octavia screamed --_

 

"Lincoln!" she thrashed upwards, one hand pressed to her stomach and the other reaching into the dark.

"Octavia. Octavia!" Hands touched her side, her hip, and she had rolled off the bed and into a crouch before she recognized the voice.

She went limp, limbs dropping out a defensive stance before her hand came back up to cover her eyes. And surreptitiously wipe away tears. 

"Sorry. Didn't you ask for a midnight wake up call?" she said with her best attempt at a smile, trying to breathe deep and even to slow down her racing pulse. Dumb dream. Her subconscious could never get it right. She'd totally owned that sword swinging geriatric, and Lincoln had single handedly knocked out three reapers to hand off to medical. Plus, it had been nearly five years since it happened. She took a few more deep breaths before she was able to meet Lincoln's eyes. "Ugh, and now I'm all sweaty. Who knows when I'll get another bath."

Lincoln slid off the bed and pulled her into his arms. "Good?"

Octavia nodded against the side of his neck, his stubble scratching comfortingly against her cheek. "Good."

"And you can help me haul water from the river if you would like another bath before we move on. The Water Clan is expecting us at sundown."

"Ugh. Sometimes being an ambassador is super annoying." She tugged away from him and smirked. "Tired?"

He raised his eyebrow, then shook his head with a matching smirk.

Octavia got to her knees and pushed Lincoln back the pile of furs, then straddled his waist. His lips twitched, but he waited for her to make the next move, as always. She slung her arms around Lincoln's neck and leaned for a long kiss, until the sour post nightmare taste in her mouth was gone.


End file.
